


Just like my memories with you

by LoneLilium (Liaessa)



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Bittersweet, Come Cry With Me, Dealing With Loss, F/M, Forgive Me, Healing, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, Kieran in flashbacks, Light Angst, Memories, Post-Canon, Reminiscing, focus on the angst, i'M SAD, not really - Freeform, not the Post-Canon everyone wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liaessa/pseuds/LoneLilium
Summary: There was nowhere to look but forward. But once in a while, she's tempted to look back, to a time where she loved and lost.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	Just like my memories with you

“Madame Sinclair? May I have a minute with you?”

Lauren looked up at the boy standing in the doorway of her office. He was about seventeen. His brown hair was brushed back, and his brown eyes looked tired. _Does this kid ever sleep?_

“Angelo? Come in!” She motioned him to sit. “What’s up?”

Angelo pulled out a chair that faced the desk. The chair made a screeching sound as it slid down the wooden floor. Angelo sat down across from Lauren. He took a blue folder from his backpack and slid it over to her. 

“It’s about the scholarship. I really appreciate your generosity, but I don’t think I can accept it.”

“Did you stay up all night thinking about this? Your eyebags-”

“ **Of course not**!” He protested. Lauren smiled at the obvious lie. Even without her ability, she would have still known he was lying. Her years of sleep deprivation had made her skillful at spotting her kind.

“Of course, I am sure you had a restful night.” She laughed into her hand. Her expression softened, “Is it your mother? I could talk to her if you want.”

“No. She doesn’t know that I got a scholarship. Actually, I didn’t even tell her I want to study art.”

“I see.”

“I feel guilty for even considering this. I should just get a job after graduation to help her out.” Lauren was well acquainted with Angelo’s mother, Alexandra. A single mother of three taking on Greychapel on her own. Things in Greychapel were better there than they were ten years prior. The region still suffered from decades of neglect and poverty. The stigma of growing up in South Shore was very much alive.

“I understand.” Lauren sighed, “It’s not my place to tell you what to do. But, when you told me that it’s always been your dream to study art, you-” she paused, unsure how to tell him that she knew he did not lie about his dream, “You sounded very sincere.” 

“A lot of students take on a part-time job with their studies. It’s not easy, but it’s an option you could pursue.”

“You should still talk it over with your mother,” Lauren suggested. “She knows how passionate you are about this.”

“You won that scholarship fair and square. I wasn't even on the selection committee.”

He nodded, “I suppose, I could do that.”

“You still have about a month and a half to confirm your enrollment at the university. Regardless of what you choose, the foundation and I fully support your decision.”

Lauren smiled. She handed the file back to him. He thanked her as he got up to leave, pushing the chair closer back to its original position. He paused for a moment, then turned around.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Of course.” Lauren nodded..

“Why is it called the White Foundation?” Lauren heard that question many many times. Why is it not the Sinclair Foundation? She has never given out the correct answer. Most of the time she would say that White is the colour of her favourite flower. Sometimes or she would utter some nonsense about colour symbolism and new beginnings.

But she never mentions _him_. 

There must have been a visible change in Lauren’s expression, discomfort, perhaps. It made Angelo retract his question. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Lauren felt she owed Angelo the answer to that question.

“The foundation was established in memory of an old friend of mine,” Lauren said after a pause. Her eyes fixated on a glass paperweight that sat atop her desk.

“My- closest friend.” It felt like she was letting out a secret. She picked up the paperweight and rotated it in her hand, “It’s been a little over ten years since he died.”

“He grew up a few blocks from here actually.”

“Is that why you do charity work in the area? Because he used to live here?”

“The foundation has offices all over the city. We don’t allocate resources based on my preferences. We have a committee that oversees our budgets. I just prefer to work in this district.”

“Which may or may not be because of him.” she shrugged.

“Was he part of Lune?” Lauren almost dropped the paperweight. She contemplated the question for a moment, debating whether or not to answer. Her eyes shifted back to Angelo.

“Yes, he was. What made you think so?”

“My mom said you used to know Lune. I thought your friend might have been one of them.”

“I see.” Lauren nodded, her eyes shifted back to the paperweight in her hand.

“My mom said my father knew them too, that he died helping them.”

Lauren felt her chest tighten.

After Lune halted a massive Phantom Scythe Operation, the leader expanded the hunt. He gave out stern orders that anyone found helping Lune are to be executed with no mercy. Angelo’s father was one of the few brave enough to stand up to the leader and Phantom Scythe. He had a lot of insider information from his involvement in several operations. He supplied Lune with a lot of information and protected their identities. Lune would have not accomplished half of what they did without his help.

That help came at a very steep cost.

Lauren could never forget how she felt the day he died.

_“H-How many more are going to die because of us?” Lauren sobbed. Her chest was burning, she felt like she was out of breath._

_Kieran said nothing. He was always the calmer of the two. Instead, he let cry in his embrace, gently stroking her back._

_“Kieran. He has three kids. We shouldn't have accepted his help. We could have just-” she sniffled. Lauren had no idea what they could have done or could do. Neither of them would be alive without Trace’s help._

_No one leaves the phantom scythe alive. Sandman's words haunted her again and again. She held Kieran even more tightly. Deep inside she knew that the same fate awaited him, but she did not want to believe it._

_Kieran also must have cried that night. It was evident in his eyes the next morning._

“Trace was really brave. Lune told me they were able to do so much thanks to his help.” Lauren said, crafting her words carefully. She would never reveal to Angelo or his mother that she was, in fact, part of Lune. The courage to tell them simply did not exist. 

“My mother doesn’t think so. She thinks my dad was a fool for abandoning his family and helping Lune.”

“What do you think?” Lauren was surprised she asked such a question. She mouthed the words before she gave them much thought. A long moment passes as if Angelo was thinking about the question seriously.

"Your friends- Lune- they were brave and selfless. To stand up to an unjust system like that."

“I want to feel proud of my dad for what he did.”

“But I- I just wish he was still around.” Lauren’s hand tightened around the paperweight in her hand. She could not look Angelo in the eyes, “I miss him a lot.” Lauren felt a tightness in her chest. 

“I’m sure you miss them too. Your Lune friends, I mean.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, it was not easy to smile, but she did, “I really miss them.”

****

Lauren took a different way home that day. Usually, she took the long way home, avoiding the Saint Lawerence River. That day she decided to drive over the bridge again. She drove along the Ardhalis river, letting the breeze flow in through the window. Enjoying the feel of spring air ruffling her hair.

Lauren had almost forgotten that she and Kieran had met Angelo once before.

He was about six, so he most likely did not remember meeting them.

_She and Kieran had to look after Angelo while his father searched through some documents. Neither she nor Kieran had much experience with children. Angelo was unamused by any of their attempts to keep him entertained._

_He gave up on them both and picked up his colouring book._

_“Uh oh,” he said, pouting. He flipped through the colouring book in distress._

_“What’s wrong?” Kieran asked._

_“I coloured all the pages.” He held up his colouring book. It was full of coloured drawings of cars._

_Kieran smiled, “Is that so?” He picked up a pen and a blank sheet of paper, and started drawing._

_A few minutes later, he handed Angelo a drawing of a car, “Here, colour this.” Anglo’s face lit up and he grinned widely. “Thank you!” He started working on it immediately._

_Lauren could not help but smile at the sight._

She smiled again at the distant memory. Has it really been twelve years? Could she have ever imagined that she would lose him two years later?

She arrived at the Saint Lawrence Bridge again. Not only did it connect the wealthy and poor areas of Ardhalis. It was where her connection to Kieran came to be. The place they made their deal. A blood pact meant to be broken by nothing but death.

The place where Kieran died. 

And so she avoided driving on that bridge. Even if it meant her drive home was twice as long as it needed to be.

But that day she felt the need to stop by.

She drove by his old apartment.

It had new owners. A young couple and their child.

_Not long after Kieran died, the landlord called her to clear out Kieran’s apartment, because the apartment was going to be rented out._

_Lauren was furious._

_“Why are you so eager to rent it out? It hasn’t been that long since he died!” She shouted, the tears burning in her eyes. She hated crying in front of strangers, but she felt so helpless at that moment._

_“I’m sorry, young lady.” the landlord sighed, “this is my livelihood. I already left it empty for a month. But I can’t keep doing it forever.”_

_“Let me rent this place out.” Lauren pleaded, tears falling down her face already. She must have been a pitiful mess because the landlord agreed to her request._

_It went on for two years. Lauren paid the rent on a vacant apartment that she was never going to move into._

_She did not set a foot in there. Not even once._

_And how could she?_

_She knew all she would find is traces of his existence. Traces of something no longer tangible._

_The landlord called her over out of the blue one day._

_“You need to clean out the apartment in two weeks.”_

_“It’s time for you to move on. I feel cruel for saying this, but he’s never coming back.”_

_“You need to move on.”_

**_He’s never coming back._ **

_She could never forget the heaviness she felt standing in the doorway the day she finally returned to Kieran’s apartment_. 

**_He’s never coming back._ **

Those words still sting sometimes. Even after so long.

Still, things are much better now.

She found a goal to work towards. No longer looking at the past, for once she started feeling optimistic for the future. 

****

Lauren arrived at the apartment she shared with her husband. A roomy two-bedroom apartment that oversees Nightingale Park. It was very close to her former family home so she would visit her uncle very often.

Even before she unlocked her front door, she could smell food. Almost taste it.

He was home early.

Francis was a high school teacher, about four years older than Lauren. They have been married for a little over a year. Their friendship, however, spanned over seven years.

Like her, he lost someone dear to him in the war.

Like her, he would sometimes long for someone who was no longer there.

They met at a war memorial event seven years ago, and from there embarked on a journey of healing and growth.

“Welcome home, darling.” He stood in front of the stove, still in his work clothes.

Lauren tossed her purse to the sofa and walked over to the kitchen.

“I smell something delicious.” Lauren leaned over the counter, glancing over to the stove, “I just realized how hungry I am.” 

“When have I fed you anything that wasn’t delicious?” 

“Wait, don’t answer that.” he raised a hand before she could say anything. She laughed. 

“Hey, that was an interesting experiment!” 

“I had a short shift today, so I had a head start on dinner.”

“I could smell our dinner from a block away.” Lauren laughed, “Let’s hope this tastes as good as it smells.” 

She tried a spoon of soup, and gave him a thumbs-up, “the soup is safe!” Francis gave her a side glance.

“Get out of my kitchen!” he motioned with the ladle in his hand, “ Go get changed. I should be done in another ten minutes.”

“Fine by me.” Lauren turned away and headed to the bedroom.

She opened the door to her closet. A small wooden box with a lock caught her eyes. She hesitated for an instant before picking it up.

Inside was a photograph and two pencil drawings of her. Lauren picked up the photograph and put the box on the dresser.

"Brave and selfless my ass." She smiled at the photograph. The same way she would smile at a friend she had not seen in a while.

The photograph was of her and Kieran standing in front of Orion and Sons. The very same photograph that Sandman blackmailed her with.

How glad she was that he did not destroy it.

"I wish I had another picture of you."

In the three years she knew Kieran White, they never took a single picture together. It was a bitter realization for Lauren following his death.

"Preferably, one you smiled in." Her fingers brushed across the photograph.

"I really miss that smile."

“Dinner’s ready!” She heard Francis chanting from the kitchen.

“Coming!”

She looked at the photograph one last time before returning it to the box and locking it.

The locked box will always be there. Hidden, but easy to find. Locked, but easily opened.

_Just like my memories with you._

**Author's Note:**

> If you hate me because of this... I understand 1000% 
> 
> But I thought I should tell this story, where Lauren loses Kieran, but still moves forward nonetheless. As someone who wholeheartedly and sincerely ships Lauki and indulges on a lot of Lauki fluff, I felt like a traitor writing the last scene. But Lauren deserves to be happy. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
